Flowers
by Kalira69
Summary: Thanks to Yama, Harlock's days have become peppered with flowers. (Movie-'verse; fluff.)


I was working on a challenge set for Harlock/Yama storylets and the prompt 'Flower' came up - which was so unerringly fitting it actually took me a while to figure out what to do with it.

* * *

Harlock emerged from the closet tugging on his shirt and pointedly ignoring the empty bed. Though Yama was perfectly capable of rising early, he would normally still be there. He enjoyed lounging in their bed in the mornings and sometimes trying to coax Harlock back into it himself. Harlock rarely resisted him very hard - he enjoyed being coaxed, and even more so spending lazy mornings tangled up in bed and half dozing with his lover . . . or fucking into him warm and slow.

Harlock took a breath and shook his head, pushing that thought away. He was heading for the bridge in a few minutes, and as Yama wasn't _there_ in any case there was no use in allowing himself to follow that mental path. He would only be disappointed.

He paused, distracted, and quickly turned his attention back to the bed. There, just beside his pillow as though it had fallen there, was a tiny white flower on a sprig of stem.

Harlock smiled and went to collect it, spinning it back and forth between his fingers as he made his way through the ship. Stepping onto the bridge, he tucked it into his belt before going to each station and speaking with all of the crew working there. He took reports from some of them who had been on duty through the 'night' shift, and a two-man team who had just returned from a week-long trip scouting.

Normally he might have conducted all of those conversations from his throne on the upper level, but being on his feet and moving felt good. And Yama had pointed out several times that Harlock was even _more_ intimidating when he was seated there and the crew had to come up the stairs and all but creep into his presence.

After hearing the scouts' report, Harlock left the bridge again, making his way down to check the largest cargo bay, then to the mess kitchen to have a word with the cook. As he wandered the ship he made some tentative plans for their next movements, but gave no orders yet, still thinking them over.

Eventually however Harlock had run out of things to do elsewhere, and made his way back to the bridge and thence up to his throne. Just as he reached it, turning with a flare of his cape to seat himself, a bright little splotch caught his eye.

Harlock kept turning and found another little white flower resting on the arm of his throne. He smiled slightly and picked it up before sitting down, settling comfortably and bringing the flower up to breathe it in. There was only a faint _flower_ fragrance to it, but it also carried the scents of warm earth and green growth and living water.

The velvety petals brushed Harlock's lips and he smiled again, holding the flower there for another long moment before lowering his hand to rest in his lap.

By time for lunch there was still no glimpse to be stolen of his lover - not that he had truly expected Yama to fully abandon his delicate freshly-transplanted seedlings yet - but Harlock found his tray playing host to another little white flower. It joined the earlier two tucked in his belt before he began to eat.

After lunch he made his way to the heart of the Arcadia's engine to speak with Tochiro about the course he was considering from his morning's planning. After he had talked through his ideas and was thinking them over from a new perspective, a bit of machinery shifted before him, revealing a bright spot of colour nestled back beyond a large gear as it cycled out of the way.

Harlock blinked, surprised, then smiled as he reached into the tight space and retrieved the little flower on its sprig of vibrant greenery. "Helping, are you, old friend?" he asked, but this time Tochiro didn't answer him. The Arcadia rumbled smoothly as the engines shifted, an easy, contented sort of sound, and Harlock trailed his empty hand along the wall as he moved away.

After his discussion with Tochiro Harlock returned to his place on the bridge for a time, though it was quieter now - he was left alone, save for the silent figure of Tori-san perched atop the back of his throne. From time to time his gaze flicked automatically to the small door by which Yama would usually wander onto the bridge, when he came, though Harlock expected it would remain unused today. It was a habit, and the reflexive glance was difficult to stop when he was lost in thought.

Eventually he rose, performing another circuit of the crew who worked on the bridge, speaking with each and glancing over what they were all doing. He took himself off again when he noted they were becoming slightly jumpy under his gaze, going instead to inspect the shuttle that had come back slightly damaged a few days before. Intact enough that the small crew aboard had returned largely, it would most likely be fine after a little work, but Harlock would be sure of that himself before entrusting his crew to it again.

The door to the small shuttle bay slid open and Harlock jumped backwards from a sudden movement, bringing a hand up to catch- Another flower, one that must have been balanced carefully above the doorframe, leaving it to fall when the door shifted. Harlock laughed, toying with the flower as he made his way in and passed the only other shuttle docked in the currently locked down bay on his way to the damaged one.

By the time Harlock returned to his quarters at the end of the day, he had a total of five springy white flowers tucked through his belt. He pulled them free as he opened the door, and they bobbed cheerfully in his hand, making him smile.

A pale flash near the bed caught his eye and Harlock's smile broadened. Putting the flowers aside briefly, he neatly shed his cape, belt, shirt, and boots before making his way towards the sleeping figure.

"Hello, Flower." he said softly, raising his empty hand to brush Yama's fringe out of his face.

Yama stirred formlessly and looked up, expression soft with sleep. There was another small white flower resting on his chest over his heart, cradled against his thumb. "Hello, Captain." he said quietly in return, and stretched out his hand.

Harlock brushed the backs of his knuckles along Yama's hand and wrist but ignored the offered flower to scoop his lover up and into his arms instead. Yama's breath caught. He laughed, only leaning closer in Harlock's arms, knees settling over his forearm and arms creeping around his shoulders.

"I missed you today." Harlock said quietly. The past few days, in fact, with Yama so busy fretting over his newly-transplanted seedlings that he had barely left them alone at all, even sleeping - the brief, light naps he had taken - on the greenhouse deck with them.

Yama hummed softly, a not-quite-sad little note, and nuzzled against Harlock's throat. He shivered at the touch, smiling.

"I felt your eye on me, though." Harlock teased, and Yama laughed, nipping at the base of his neck. "Thank you, love."

Yama tilted his head up even as Harlock shifted to let him down to the bed, His arms didn't slide away from Harlock's shoulders, tugging at him instead, bringing him down for a kiss. "You like flowers," Yama said against his mouth, and kissed him again, a gentle brush of lips, "you should have flowers, my darling."

"Mm." Harlock brushed his fingers over the small collection of flowers now splayed on Yama's chest. "I like you even more, Flower." he said lightly.

Yama flushed faintly but smiled a little wider. "You should have me, as well, then." he said playfully, and Harlock laughed against his mouth, even as he pressed closer to his lover, climbing onto the bed over him.

"Mm, I do, and I intend to." Harlock said lightly, nipping Yama's lower lip.

Yama purred into his kiss, arms twining around him and keeping him close. The flowers tickled Harlock's skin as they were pressed between his own chest and Yama's.

* * *

Working on this story has also reminded me of the WIP titled 'Harlock's Flower' I want to finish. . .


End file.
